Reverberation
by Isolith
Summary: The aftermath; echoes of comfort, of trying to understand and move on.
1. Chapter 1

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_Summary:_ The aftermath; echoes of comfort, of trying to understand and move on.

_A/N: _I just recently found a half-written story (more like a few paragraphs) that I could hardly remember writing let alone how it was supposed to end. Sigh. On another note I was rather intrigued trying to complete it – it turned into a couple of chapters instead ;)

…

**REVERBERATION**

…

/1/

Rusty was worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, trying to get the cloying feel in his mouth to disappear but it seemed intent on taking residence in his throat, thick and gelatinous. His palms kept running along his thighs, the clammy feel of sweat persistent to the skin even if he tried to get it off.

The sky was grey outside the passenger window, his eyes on the streets and buildings they passed; he resolutely avoided looking at Lieutenant Provenza driving the car. There was this ache behind his eyes, this small itch at the corner of his eyes and he was afraid he would not be able to stop himself from crying if he did not look at inanimate objects.

It was hard not to overreact when Lieutenant Provenza pulled him out of school, in the middle of math. The lieutenant had never picked him up before – it was usually a uniform or Sharon. It was hard not to be instantly assaulted by anxiety; that hard gruff expression on the older man's face seemed ominous, even more so when it got stuck in a crooked grimace the moment Rusty asked what was wrong.

The answers to his many questions however, did not persuade Rusty to remain calm. Was Sharon alright? – was she hurt? She was fine was the curt answer; yet the answer did not reassure Rusty – why were they going to the hospital then if Sharon was fine. Why did the troubled look on Provenza's face not withdraw then if everything was fine?

Something was definitely wrong.

They stopped at a red light. Rusty watched a throng of people crossing, hurrying about their day balancing coffee cups, phones and briefcases, unaware that the world had stopped spinning.

The lieutenant had knocked on the classroom door in the middle of Mr. Davis explaining integral curves and the mathematical proof for integral equations. Every eye in the room had riveted to Rusty when Provenza said there was an emergency and he needed to pull Rusty out of school early. At least Provenza wasn't in uniform, at least it hadn't been like the last time and yet somehow this time it had felt worse. Sharon wouldn't allow anyone – even the lieutenant – to pull Rusty out of school unless something was wrong, unless there was a situation that triumphed education.

The lieutenant slowed the car down, turning right. The hospital loomed in view, grey and cold as it rose into the sky – monstrous and ugly. Rusty had never cared much for hospitals; they gave him the same tepid taste in his mouth that was stuck on the back of his tongue now. They pulled into the parking space for visitors.

"C'mon kid," Provenza said, a hand briefly on Rusty's shoulder.

Maybe if Rusty had insisted Provenza tell him what was wrong, maybe then the old man would tell him – only Rusty couldn't form any words, couldn't think coherent enough to dare force a conversation. He had thought about yelling and angrily pointing out that he had a right to know what was happening but he feared what the answer would be, feared that cloying taste in his mouth would spread to the rest of his body.

"It's alright, Rusty," the older man told him again as they went through the hospital entrance, "she's alright."

Rusty gave a hesitant nod; he would trust that assurance when he saw Sharon himself and not a second before.

Rusty followed Provenza further into the hospital bypassing the front desks and waiting rooms – the old man seemed to know which way they were heading. An elevator took them up a couple of floors and then through corridors and rooms, a flurry of hospital personal skirting past along with a patient or two. They went straight through sliding doors till they came to a larger room; Rusty eyes fastened on the people in the room, taking in the different expressions.

The team was familiar to him by now but they seemed like foreign figures in this moment; Sharon was missing from the group and somehow it made the knot in his stomach tighten more. Somehow it made the rest strangers.

Rusty looked to Lieutenant Flynn sitting in a chair; the guy looked haggard but his eyes were alert with anger. Someone had punched the lieutenant judging by the bruised skin along his jaw; maybe that was the reason for the barely buried anger in the lines around his face, in the crossed arms and sour expression.

The others did not look angry in the same way as Flynn. Tao was hard to decipher, he's eyes kind when he regarded Rusty but there was a line around his mouth that seemed to twitch with something Rusty couldn't interpret. Buzz smiled briefly, and Rusty found himself smiling back just as briefly. Sanchez gave him a gentle nod meant to be reassuring and Flynn eyes briefly took him in.

Rusty wondered where Sykes was? Mostly though, he wanted to know where Sharon was and why Provenza seemed hell-bent on not telling him anything. However judging by the aggravated look Provenza sent Flynn maybe the old man's short, curt answers had nothing to do with Rusty; maybe Provenza was as affected by this as Rusty and that was the reason he had been silent throughout most of the car ride.

Provenza's hand landed on the back of his shoulder, guiding Rusty in the direction of a chair next to Tao. Rusty reluctantly sat down and then with a worried look around, catching everyone staring at him, he asked, "Where's Sharon?"

"Rusty," Sharon's voice rang out, soft and soothing in its familiar tone.

Rusty immediately felt relived beyond comparison, watching the group of detectives releasing the same breath of relief with him.

He turned his head in the direction of her voice and saw her emerging from behind another door into an exam room. She looked tired, hair astray and glasses missing. For a short moment Rusty was confused; what had happened, what was wrong – why did Provenza look agonized and why did Flynn look as if he had choked on something bitter? Why were none of them smiling?

She was wearing the suit she had put on this morning. Nothing looked to be amiss with her. Her head turned fractionally then and her hair followed like a curtain shifting with the wind – it exposed the marks. Stark and vivid on the pale of her throat; fingerprints that had forced red angry indentations in her skin; fingerprints that had caused blood vessels to rupture.

Rusty felt sick; he knew what an outline of a handprint on the throat meant.

It was the only thing different about her. The only outward thing anyway. Rusty told himself to breathe; even if she was hurt it was an immense relief seeing her. He quickly leapt to his feet, watching as she approached him with a smile that was warm and welcoming. He could have hugged her.

"Honey, what are you doing here?" she came closer, her eyes kind but shimmery.

He knew the moment she stepped closer that she was on the brink of crying. Up close the color of her eyes seemed to strike a fragile pose, seemed to flicker with that flimsy curtain he had come to know. It was easily interpretable for him; the way she pronounced 'honey', the embrace she suddenly drew him into – it was intimate on a level they seemed to express more frequently when they were under distress. He still remembered the embrace from when he had been about to go with his prick father away for the weekend, eons ago; it felt similar to that and yet there was another chord of interpretation in it. It was an embrace meant to comfort Rusty as much as it was meant to comfort herself.

Something had happened; something that had pushed her slightly off; something that had connected with her hard. Her hand shook on his back as she held him close.

"Hi" he softly replied, bringing his own arms around her, wanting her to feel comforted, "well, lieutenant Provenza here hauled me out of class and would not tell me a thing." He tightened his embrace, wanting to let the sensation of her unharmed remain with him. She was warm and he could feel her breath; could feel the tremble she tried to subdue, the way she took another hurried breath before speaking, the way she tightened her arms around him before she let go.

"Sorry, sorry – it's been a little hectic – but I'm fine," she answered him, another smile. It faded the moment she looked away from him though, chilly when she looked up and regarded the others. Not chilly, he amended – aloof, he thought, maybe distanced.

Her hand rested on his back and Rusty looked at the others with her. Provenza was glaring at Flynn who was alternating between starring angrily at empty space and Sharon. Sanchez looked apologetic and Tao looked uncomfortable all of a sudden. Buzz's eyes flickered between everyone nervously. Something was off about the whole bunch; they seemed uncharacteristic in their behavior.

"What happened?" he asked – no one answered.

Sharon patted his back and leaned closer, whispering "I'll tell you later."

Out aloud her voice was solid and not soft; "Gentlemen, I think we should call it a day."

The others agreed, nodding, each detective with a different tilt to the agreement.

It suddenly made sense to Rusty – Provenza had pulled Rusty out of school not because he had done something wrong or because someone was hospitalized; he had brought Rusty along to comfort Sharon.

The old man knew Sharon was out of it and he had thought Rusty's presence would help.

Rusty stepped closer to Sharon then.

"I'll drive you home, Captain," Flynn said, voice brusque as he stood up.

"We'll take a cab," Sharon told the group, dismissal in her voice.

Provenza gave a worried nod, "You sure?"

"Yes," she forced a smile, "I just need a couple of hours sleep with some Tylenol – I'll be fine. You'll see me Monday. We'll finish paperwork then, take the weekend off - I think we need it."

They nodded, agreeing. Flynn frowned but refrained from saying anything.

The group set in motion, walking out of the waiting room – through corridors, silent as they walked. Rusty offered Sharon his arm and gave a narrowed look over his shoulder, watching Provenza whisper something to Flynn, vehement in his gesticulating but not loud enough to overhear. He wondered what had happened.

...


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Just wanted to thank everyone for the wonderful feedback - made my days bright =)_

/2/

Back at home however, Sharon was tight-lipped and short with words. Edgy and nervous in a fashion that Rusty had never experienced when it came to her. It reminded him of a hurt animal; reminded him of that feeling that had directed his actions back when he had received all those threatening letters – fear of being taken away from her. It was not a vivid fear he detected in her but something that hid, something that was vague and exhausted.

He found Tylenol in the cabinet in the bathroom, guiding her to recline on the sofa, giving her a glass of water to swallow the pills with. He watched her pained expression when she took the pills; he wondered how much she was hurting. She seemed tired, no protests when he draped a blanket over her, no protests but a sigh when he tucked the edges of the blanket around her. She curled around a pillow, eyes far away as she looked out the window.

Rusty silently went to the kitchen, putting water in the kettle, taking out her favorite mug. Sharon liked ginger tea with mint, so he found the special blend she had stored away behind the other varieties of teas. Waiting for the water to boil, Rusty looked over his shoulder, watching the top of her head on the sofa. It tugged at his heart – he hated seeing her upset. That she had yet to admonish lieutenant Provenza for taking Rusty out of school yet was a clear sign she was not herself; that she had yet to ask how Rusty's day had been was another indication.

Tea mug in hand he approached her, gingerly setting the mug down on the sofa table. He sat down at the other end of the sofa; her feet snuggled into the blanket close to him.

She gave him a soft look.

"Was it a hostage situation? A suspect that did that to you?" Rusty prodded, keeping his voice soft and low, then on an afterthought, "I made you ginger tea"

Her lips curved, her eyes on the tea mug.

Tentatively she sat upright, slowly, taking the mug.

Rusty watched her in profile.

Sharon took a sip of the tea, her eyes closing for just a fraction and she breathed out, the exhalation sounding both sad and relived at the same time.

"You know," she started, eyes finding his and to Rusty's surprise she was looking at him with the softest of expressions, regarding him with a tender appreciation in her eyes that made Rusty believe everything was going to be alright, "It's a nightmare that's over and done with."

She went silent and for a moment Rusty thought she would leave it at that. He hesitated, wanting to ask her to recount exactly what had happened, exactly how she had gotten those bruises down to the smallest detail. She spoke again however.

"I suppose it will be classified as an aggravated assault on a police officer," she seemed to mull over the words and Rusty agreed with her, it sounded foreign to him too, "though - " she stopped.

"Though?"

"Though," her smile was brief but there, "It's hard to explain."

Rusty nodded, "Was it similar to when - " he ran his hand along the armchair of the sofa, looking away, "You know when Stroh tried to kill me in Brenda's house? Was the person deliberately trying to kill you?"

Out of the corner of his eye Rusty saw Sharon moving closer to him – he felt her hand on his shoulder.

"Similar yes – but also different," he looked at her and she continued, her hand now soft around his shoulder, "None of us expected it, so it caught us by surprise."

"It was one of your suspects?"

"Yes; he didn't like the deal we had prepared for him."

"Oh. What about Lieutenant Flynn? What happened to his face?"

She withdrew her hand, her expression quickly turning impassive as if she was trying to hide something, "He – well," she stopped, shook her head, and then in a clear voice, "He got into it with the suspect."

Rusty nodded. Leaning closer to Sharon, his shoulder next to hers he asked her, "Are you alright, though?"

"It's over and I'm fine – that's what's important, okay?"

He nodded even though he wasn't sure she was fine.

Sharon drank some more tea, and then along with the TV remote she leaned back in the sofa; she turned the TV on and to Rusty's surprise she flipped to a cartoon channel.

Her smile was self-aware yet amused; Rusty smiled and leaned back as well, content to watch uncomplicated television with her; it was something to hold your line of sight as well as let your worries float away.

Sharon giggled and Rusty laughed with her. They made soup, drank more tea and snuggled into a blanket each as they watched Disney.

A little after nine Sharon yawned.

"I'm exhausted so I'll go to bed now," she said, slowly folding the blanket. She rose and took the empty tea mug with her to the kitchen. Rusty heard the water faucet running and the clink of Sharon putting the mug into the sink.

Rusty watched her pad past him, a smile and a soft 'goodnight'.

The doorbell rang not long after Rusty had decided to go to bed as well. At first he was sure it was a figment of his imagination but when it rang again followed by a loud knock, Rusty hurried out into the hallway, mindful of getting to the door before the commotion woke up Sharon.

To his surprise he saw lieutenant Flynn through the peephole.

Apprehensive, Rusty opened the door.

"Sharon's asleep," he greeted the lieutenant.

"Hey kid," Flynn started, his voice gruff but he was interrupted by Sharon suddenly standing behind Rusty, two hands on his shoulders.

"It's late lieutenant – what are you doing here?"

Flynn rolled his eyes, "Thought I would check in – see whether you're still breathing." The older man sounded vaguely annoyed.

Sharon guided Rusty away from the doorway, "You can go to bed again, Rusty."

"Sharon," he protested but Sharon merely pushed him in the direction of the hallway and his room, Flynn coming inside and closing the front door behind him.

Rusty shook his head but obliged, walking slowly to his room. He didn't close the door all the way though, standing just inside his room listening to the two adults out in the hallway, their voices easily carrying.

"What do you want?" Sharon sounded tired Rusty thought.

"Is it so hard to believe I want to know if you're alright? I don't have ulterior motives, Sharon," Flynn sounded exasperated now.

"I'm tired, Andy, my head's throbbing and every time I swallow or breathe it hurts."

Rusty nearly went out into the hallway then, almost on the verge of wanting to tell Flynn to leave them alone and let Sharon simply sleep but he lingered, curiosity keeping him still. There was a familiarity to their conversation that he found peculiar.

"I'm sorry," Flynn stated, voice gravelly, "I just wanted to make sure you're alright, okay?"

Sharon hummed.

There was silence for a short while; Rusty was about to peek out into the hallway when Sharon spoke again, "I know – I know," her voice sounded muffled.

Another little moment of silence, then "I could stay."

The words surprised Rusty, his mouth opening.

"Andy," Sharon's voice was tender now, a breath of air that Rusty barely could make out, "Honey, it's best you don't."

Honey? Rusty desperately wanted to peek out into the hallway now.

"I know, I know," Flynn repeated Sharon's earlier phrase, sounding resigned.

Another beat of silence.

"You blame me, don't you?" Flynn sounded apprehensive.

"No," Sharon sounded unsure.

"I lost my temper, I know. I shouldn't have – but listen, Sharon, the dirtbag put his hands around your throat," Flynn sounded angry again, words coming out in a livid staccato, "he put his filthy hands around -"

"Shh"

Flynn stopped talking.

"We'll deal with the consequences Monday morning, Andy."

"Right, you mean I'll be chained to a desk for the rest of my career, huh – that's what's gonna happen come Monday." Flynn's voice was aggravated again, "You know it, I know it – heck every goddamn idiot below the seventh floor knows it."

"You won't."

"Taylor's not going to let this slide, Sharon," their voices became softer, as if they were moving away, "Heck; FID's going to have a field day, tripping over themselves in their glee to have me out of their hair."

"Would you please stop talking like this? And keep your voice down."

Flynn sighed loudly.

Rusty dared peek through his door, noticing the back of Sharon walking into the living room, Flynn following closely behind. Rusty knew this was rude, listening in on their private conversation, but there was something about their interaction that he found intriguing; that and he wanted to make sure Sharon was alright and that the lieutenant did not bother her too much.

"I deliberately broke the dirtbag's face, Sharon – shit, I'm not even sure what would have happened if Julio and the rest had not been able to pull me away."

"Sit," Sharon's voice was brusque now.

There was another moment of silence and Rusty imagined Flynn was sitting down on the sofa albeit grudgingly, maybe crossing his arms. He imagined Sharon would sit next to him but in the opposite corner, fixing him with a patient but tired look.

"I'm sorry," Flynn whispered.

"I know, Andy – and I know why you did it." Sharon replied in an equally soft voice.

"I don't really regret it," Flynn's voice turned contemplative, "even though I know I should. Yes, Sharon," his voice turned to a growl, "I know that's not what I'm supposed to feel."

Rusty imagined Sharon was crossing her arms now.

"I don't blame you, I understand you, okay – it's more of a wish; I wish you had not put that much force into it, okay? I wish you hadn't continued after he was subdued. That's all."

There was a short period of silence.

"It's kinda hard to maintain serenity when you're choking and gasping for breath."

Sharon hummed.

"Does it hurt still?"

Another brief silence, "I'm not sure I'll be able to sleep."

"I'm staying."

"Andy."

"Sharon."

Silence.

Then a small chuckle from both of them.

"You know I love you, don't you?" Flynn said when they had quieted down again, his tone sounding unsure.

Rusty smiled, not able to hide his surprise at those words, not able to really comprehend what in the world they were talking about.

"I know," Sharon said, a smile in her voice now.

Rusty imagined she would sit closer to him now, maybe lay her head on his shoulder.

"But you're angry with me?" It sounded more like a statement than a question, Flynn's voice accepting.

Sharon hummed, "I'm too tired to discuss it more – but no, I'm not angry at you."

"Okay."

"Okay."

Then nothing but silence. Rusty closed his bedroom door quietly; he would give them privacy now.

/


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Here's another chapter in celebration of it being friday ;) Thank you all for reading =)_

/3/

When Rusty woke up Saturday morning he found Flynn asleep on the sofa when he trudged into the living room. The lieutenant was tangled in a blanket, long legs over one sofa arm. Rusty was surprised; he had expected the lieutenant to be sleeping in Sharon's bedroom from listening to their conversation last night. Apparently there was something he had not quite understood.

Rusty softly padded into the kitchen, taking a carton of milk out of the refrigerator. He drowned a full glass and then turned the coffee machine on. Looking into the refrigerator again, he contemplated what he should make for breakfast; he wanted to do something special for Sharon.

Taking out eggs and a block of cheddar, he grimaced trying to hide a yawn. He felt exhausted from yesterday, the whole ordeal having settled into him like bone-weary fatigue; that and he had a vague recollection of what had bordered on a nightmarish dream that had spun round in his head throughout the night. He couldn't remember the specifics of the dream but the feeling was still there – something that tasted a bit like dread. It had been some time since he'd had those sorts of dreams.

"Morning, kid," Flynn greeted him, voice rough with sleep. Rusty looked over his shoulder, noting the lieutenant stood awkwardly on the threshold into the kitchen, a hand around his neck as if he had slept wrong on it. Rusty wondered where the lieutenant had found pajamas pants to sleep in, the pants even fitting, neither too long nor too short. The t-shirt the lieutenant had on was grey, big letters proclaiming LAPD on it; it looked to be a little too tight on the other hand. It was a little mystery; Rusty was sure Flynn had had nothing with him last night when he'd rung their doorbell. Maybe he had borrowed something to sleep in from Sharon.

"Morning," Rusty replied, not sure what he felt about the lieutenant being in their home in this capacity but the forlorn look the older man gave him made every apprehension quickly dissipate. The man still looked haggard, the bruise on his jaw even more pronounced. Rusty grimaced; that bruise was from the shuffle with whoever had tried to strangle Sharon – and with that reminder Rusty really had no problem with the lieutenant being in their home.

"I was going to make breakfast," Rusty said to fill the silence, beginning to feel a bit awkward himself; he'd gotten used to it only being Sharon and him.

Flynn nodded, then after running his palm across his face, he said, "I'll help - you just tell me what to do."

Rusty nodded with a half-smile, watching Flynn yawn and stretch, the man growling in the back of his throat when he came further into the kitchen, obviously still tired.

In a matter of a few moments they were both at work, silently. Rusty was coming up short for a conversation starter so instead he fried slices of onions before he put the egg mixture on the pan. He watched the omelet on the frying pan, putting grated cheese and pumpkin seeds on top when it had been on the stove for a short while.

"Looks nice," Flynn commented, eyes on the omelet briefly before they returned to the cutting board and the melon he was slicing. Rusty gave a hum in response, opening a cabinet to find plates. Flynn was eyeing the coffee machine still sputtering with a longing look, cutting another slice of melon; Rusty agreed silently – coffee would definitely help with waking up. Rusty was in the middle of setting the table when Sharon came into the kitchen, yawning, likewise in a pajamas; hers was green and satin.

"Mmm, smells lovely in here," she smiled, approaching Rusty first and depositing a small, brief peck to his temple.

"Morning," Rusty greeted back, happy to see her.

Overall, she looked better than last night, Rusty decided, and it made him smile widely back at her. Though there was still the visible handprint around her neck, less vibrant but with a different, darker attenuation. Rusty's smile faded – its presence disturbed him.

"Good morning, Lieutenant," she greeted Flynn when she turned away from Rusty. Rusty watched Sharon nervously fiddling with the sleeves of her pajamas top, her smile seeming to encompass a nervousness that was unlike her. Rusty wondered why it was lieutenant now when it had been honey last night but he didn't voice his speculation.

"Morning, Captain," Flynn replied in the same awkwardly formal tone, scratching the back of his head; it looked as if he was in the middle of taking a step towards her but decided against it, an awkward little step back and forth on his feet.

Rusty rolled his eyes at their antics, finishing setting the table and coming back to the stove. He looked between the two, wondering if they were aware of how uncomfortable they looked. Probably not, he decided when Sharon avoided Flynn's eyes for the umpteenth time and Flynn scratched his head once again, eyes intensely following Sharon's movements.

Sharon opened the refrigerator, "You want orange juice on the table?"

"Yup," Rusty answered, taking the pan off the stove and moving it to the table. Flynn brought the cutting board with him, the melon neatly cut.

"You two - sit," Rusty smiled at them, pointing at the table. They both obliged and he went to grab the coffee pot.

It was less awkward once they were seated and in the middle of eating but Rusty still understood there was a tension that bordered on something he wasn't entirely sure what to do with; something that was very different from last night and yet very similar. Sharon brushed away any questions regarding her state of mind and looked annoyed everytime someone's eyes landed on the bruises; Flynn seemed apologetic and a bit lost for words meanwhile Rusty was stuck trying to bring the two adults into conversation – about anything really.

"So," Rusty started when his prodding into yesterday went nowhere – apparently it was too early in the morning to expect any kind of details from the two of them but incoherent mumbling and sighs, "What're we doing today?"

Both adults looked at him as if he had sprouted four antennae's on his head though Rusty pretended not to notice.

"Laundry," Sharon replied, looking baffled, "I'm just doing laundry."

There was vulnerability about her still, Rusty reflected, something that made him want to assure her that everything was going to be fine; something that made him want to draw her into an embrace.

Flynn gave a shrug, stuffing a piece of melon in his mouth.

"We could go to the beach?" Rusty ventured, looking between them. They needed to do something that would take their minds of what had happened Rusty thought; otherwise it would fester like an inflamed wound.

Flynn looked doubtful about the suggestion and Sharon looked down, hair obscuring her expression.

"A bit of fresh air, an ice cream and good company?" Rusty elaborated, "You know that small ice cream stand, Sharon, with the gelato you like."

"I'm not sure," Sharon started, fingers hesitatingly hovering close to her neck. She looked pained for a brief second before it quickly faded, replaced by impassiveness.

"Are you in pain?" Flynn asked, eyes dark with concern.

"A bit," she relented, pushing her fork around on her plate; Rusty noticed she had barely eaten anything, "The doctor said it would hurt for a while but that nothing major or vital had been damaged," she paused and then when she noticed their looks, "I'll be fine."

"Does it hurt when you eat?" Rusty asked, wondering why she hadn't gotten some yogurt if she had trouble with the omelet. He was not used to her being indecisive; it rattled him a bit.

"Some," another vague answer and a faint smile meant to reassure them both. It did nothing of the sort.

"You want some yoghurt?" Rusty pushed his chair back, "I'll get you some yoghurt."

Rusty quickly waved away her protests and quickly went to grab the yogurt carton out of the fridge before she got it herself. Sharon smiled warmly when Rusty placed a bowl with yoghurt in front of her along with a spoon. He watched her bring the spoon to her mouth, watched as she swallowed with what still looked like an grimace; it was an expression that only deepened into a frown when she caught both Flynn and Rusty looking at her intensely.

"I'm fine," she stressed, giving both of them a little glare. She took another spoonful yogurt, a little sigh leaving her mouth.

"What else did the doctor say?" Flynn asked, crossing his arms and leaning back in the chair.

"That I was fine," Sharon replied, this time the tone most definitely annoyed.

Flynn's brows furrowed and Sharon pursed her lips. They were frowning at each other and Rusty thought it looked to be on the brim of anger; only Sharon looked away and ate some more yogurt, eyes on Rusty instead;

"What did you miss yesterday? When Provenza pulled you out of school early?"

"Just integral equations," Rusty smiled crookedly, "Nothing much."

Sharon shook her head, a smile on her lips.

Flynn was still looking at her but she ignored him. Rusty wondered how two people could display so different attitudes towards each other; why yesterday it had been strained but with noticeable concern and affection – this morning they seemed awkward and short of patience. He had considered asking why the lieutenant had stayed the night but the question was sure to raise hackles so he refrained; even if it was rather self-explanatory why Flynn had stayed Rusty still would have liked further insight into the whole thing. Not now, however, what with Sharon seeming on the verge of raising her voice and Flynn looking ready for combat.

Flynn sipped his coffee, a dark expression on his face, tense lines around his mouth.

"So you're not going to tell me what the doctor said?"

Sharon looked up, eyes narrowing, "There's nothing to tell – give it a rest."

Flynn pointed his fork at Sharon, "I'm just concerned, Sharon, no need to blow a fuse!"

Sharon gave the fork a belligerent look and Flynn quickly moved it back to the table again.

"I'm not blowing any fuses," she said, voice low but aggravated.

Flynn rolled his eyes and Sharon narrowed hers further in response.

Rusty sipped his coffee silently, trying to understand where all this was coming from, trying to understand what he had missed. The air seemed to go out of Sharon and she sighed, and then looked back and forth between Rusty and the lieutenant; "I know you're concerned about me but really I'm fine. A little sore and a bit shocked but overall I'm okay. Now if you'll refrain from looking at me as if I'm going to break into pieces that would be appreciated. I'll be even better once this is over and done with."

Flynn nodded, "That's all I wanna hear."

Sharon forced a little smile.

Then silence for a short moment while they ate.

"I suppose a bit of fresh air would do me good," Sharon said when she had finished her yogurt, sipping hesitantly on her coffee. There was once again a gentleness to her and every little notion of annoyance had left her expression; she seemed apologetic. She caught Rusty's eyes and fixed him with a smile.

Rusty smiled and nodded enthusiastically.

Sharon's hand once again went to her neck; Rusty wasn't sure if she was aware of it though, her look troubled.

"You'll be able to cover most of it up, Sharon," Flynn said to her, his eyes alike on the bruises, "No one's going to care and if they stare I'm gonna get right up in their face."

She gave a hesitant laugh, eyes warm suddenly.

"Well then, the beach it is," Rusty said.

A smile crept onto Flynn's face and Sharon gave a brief but sincere chuckle, her eyes on Rusty, "The beach it is," Her voice was soft and back to her normal self; Rusty felt more at ease.

"Andy?" Sharon asked then, her eyes landing softly on Flynn.

He nodded and smiled tentatively back.

/


	4. Chapter 4

/4/

Rusty alternated between watching the sea and Sharon, the two seeming in equal turmoil this day. It was an understated turmoil though, discernible and yet it seamlessly fell into the surrounding nature. It was a pensive atmosphere, if he had to give name to it, something to understand if you knew what to look for.

The waves had a heavy momentum against the coast, the color of the water dark and inscrutable; Sharon was just as indecipherable, eyes covered by a film of opacity. There was something both insubstantial and yet solid about her, the sea just as ambivalent. Opposing dispositions, contrasting and yet complimentary.

It was a feeling Rusty felt he could relate to, one that seemed natural to him. It was a peculiar thing but he had begun to notice these small features that came out to play with Sharon, and curious enough he felt a certain degree of affinity to her mannerisms. He imagined that at some level they were similar. That distinct feature of trying to deal with what the world threw at you; that he could relate to with a startling aptitude.

Sharon had covered the bruises with a foundation and it worked wonders; only Rusty knew what to look for and the imprint was still there, barely visible but there. Yet, he understood why she wanted to cover it up; not to negate it or to pretend it had not happened – no, he thought she did it to avoid being looked at. To avoid people ogling her and making assumptions – to be able to feel it was a normal day at the beach. Rusty still looked though – whenever she looked out over the ocean or wasn't aware he was looking, he would try to understand her; try to imprint whether she was alright.

She seemed to be doing well even though facades were hard to comprehend in the light of publicity, yet he thought she seemed comforted by the purpose of the walk, by the ocean and the slight breeze – comforted by the conversations that Rusty and Flynn surrounded her in.

Flynn walked next to Sharon but with a whole body's length apart from her, apparently conscious of not walking too closely to her. Rusty thought they were putting too much effort into appearing inconspicuous and it amused him, watching the two adults trying to navigate whatever relationship they were in without giving anything away. Rusty figured there was a whole other dimension to their relationship, something that was beheld in secrecy – something that hid beneath masks. Small flickers of emotion would cross Flynn's face every now and then that really left nothing to misconstrue – that and the conversation Rusty had listened to last night helped him understand another layer to their interactions.

It didn't bother him – no, he was only happy to know there was someone else who was conscious of Sharon; someone who wanted to make sure she was alright. Flynn was watching Sharon as closely as Rusty, hands in his jean pockets and a look of affection when his eyes weren't on the sea as well.

Rusty's ice cream was in a waffle cone, two scopes, while Sharon had opted for a little cup and only one scope. Flynn had declined ice cream, stating he was full from breakfast.

Sharon was all warm, small smiles when she caught them looking; she was trying to appease them both; trying to make them believe she was not affected by the events. The tension from breakfast was gone. It was obvious, however, that in between smiles there was something she was ruminating about; small creases appearing on her brow, lines appearing around her mouth.

The three of them were walking along the promenade, the sun poking through gaps in the many clouds every now and then, the day not too humid yet.

Flynn's phone suddenly rang interrupting the shared little silence they had walked with for a while. Flynn answered with a gruff, "Yeah," stopping up next to a bench.

Sharon came to a halt, a look of curiosity as she watched Flynn, her hands around her cup of ice cream.

Flynn's voice turned from disinterest to anger in a manner of a second, eyebrows knitting together in disbelief. He quickly waved away Sharon's questioning look and mouthed 'I'll just be a second' and then he walked away, standing just far enough away that it was impossible to hear what he said.

Sharon sighed but gave a faint smile. She pointed to the bench and Rusty nodded affirmatively; they both sat down, still enjoying their ice creams. Rusty watched the lieutenant gesticulating with angry motions, his voice rising in volume. Sharon watched him as well but where Rusty had imagined a look of annoyance or maybe even resignation there was only a little flicker of amusement in her eyes as she regarded Flynn. Rusty agreed with her; there was something almost comical about watching Flynn and not being able to hear him; from a distance the anger looked absurd.

"Is he in trouble?"

"Trouble?" Sharon turned her head, looking back at Rusty curiously, the lieutenant forgotten for the moment, "What kind of trouble?"

Rusty briefly looked out over the sea – Sharon didn't know he had been listening last night. That meant, technically, Rusty shouldn't know that much about what had happened yesterday, only what Sharon herself had told him.

"He looks upset," he tried, eyes on Flynn again.

Sharon huffed, and then her eyes turned to Flynn still angrily answering his phone. Her lips quirked into a smile and Rusty saw the way her eyes crinkled as well; a full on genuine smile. He smiled to himself.

"Upset," she shook her head, "No, he does sarcastic or angry; there's no in between." Her voice was light and Rusty found himself smiling even wider; she was joking – that was a good sign.

They both caught Flynn looking back at them; he rolled his eyes indicating the phone at his ear.

"Provenza said Flynn went kind of overboard yesterday, when your suspect assaulted you?" Rusty lied.

Sharon looked at him again – an intense look; for a second Rusty felt she knew he had been listening last night but she looked away, eyes on the sea again.

"There's a delicate balance when you're in law enforcement and need to subdue a violent individual," she said, her tone in a detached tint, "It's a precarious, grey area – subject to a lot of consideration and opinion."

Rusty nodded and she continued her eyes on him again, "We have to uphold the law and uphold our integrity as law-enforcers and at the same time we have to be able to protect ourselves. Sometimes it's hard to distinguish between what constitutes as being within our jurisdiction and what falls outside. Sometimes it's hard to see clearly when someone is attacking one of your own."

Rusty nodded again, "It's about protecting everyone's human rights?"

She hummed, a small, self-aware smile on her lips.

"Even though the suspect assaulted you first? Lieutenant Flynn was only protecting you, right? How can he be in trouble then?"

Rusty understood you had to uphold even human rights for criminals, and he understood to a certain degree everything that Sharon was upset about and yet, he still found it a bit peculiar that anyone could find fault with Flynn for protecting Sharon.

"I'm not really sure," Sharon said, her voice uncharacteristically indecisive; her eyes latched onto Flynn with what appeared to be confusion, "I'm a little biased about the situation."

Rusty nodded, wondering whether she was biased because she had been the one assaulted or because Flynn was more than merely a colleague.

"What about that time with Detective Sykes? I didn't hear anything about Sanchez being in trouble?"

Sharon looked sideways, her eyes soft when she looked at him, "It's all a bit complicated and different from that episode," she paused but spoke again "We'll know more Monday – look the details over again with new eyes and hopefully we'll be able to close the case and everything to do with it."

"What about Provenza?"

"What about Provenza?" Sharon repeated, arching an eyebrow, confused.

"He was upset with Flynn, yesterday?"

"Oh," she turned the spoon in her cup around, the remaining ice cream having turned into mush, "I actually don't know what that is about – I haven't pried into it yet."

"But Flynn might be in trouble?"

She sighed, "I don't know – nothing that should warrant too much disciplinary action, I should think. It also depends on whether the suspect decides to charge Flynn with assault or not, depends on how much internal affairs decides to get involved and so forth. Frankly, I'd rather just forget about the whole ordeal."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you," he hadn't meant to pry so much into it; it was just a curious thing.

She tilted her head, eyes on him gently, "Rusty, honey, you're not upsetting me – you ask me what you need to ask, okay?"

He nodded, "Okay."

They were silent for a short while, serenity from simply watching the ocean settling in.

"Are you secretly dating?"

"Huh?" Sharon looked at him wide-eyed, mouth slightly open in surprise.

"You and lieutenant Flynn – are you secretly dating?"

Sharon chuckled nervously then, her eyes alight with warm laughter, "What makes you think that?"

Rusty opened his mouth to explain but Sharon spoke again, "No, no – don't answer that," she smiled, shaking her head, a hand going to her face. Rusty smiled with her, a bit confused, watching her trying to compose herself.

"He stayed the night," Rusty defended his assumption.

"On the sofa," Sharon replied, amusement in her voice and a soft look.

"Right," Rusty smiled, "we'll just pretend that's pretty normal then."

Sharon gave a short laugh, something caught between amusement and embarrassment.

Rusty bumped his shoulder gently against hers, catching her eyes when she turned her head and looked at him again. There was a red blush across her cheeks and something in her eyes he found rather adorable. "Then what are you?"

She answered with a warm smile, "Friends, Rusty – good friends."

He didn't really believe her but he couldn't tell her that he had heard their conversation last night and he couldn't really tell her that the way Flynn looked at her every time she wasn't aware of it had nothing to do with merely being friends. So instead he gave a half nod.

They smiled at each other and before long Flynn joined them again. There was a look of something fierce in his expression as he regarded Rusty and Sharon.

"Provenza needs help with something."

"Oh," Sharon hummed, "What kind of help?"

"Stuff," Flynn answered and even Rusty understood there was something he wasn't telling them; Sharon gave him a look of disbelief and repeated "Stuff?" in a sarcastic tone.

Flynn merely shrugged.

"It cannot be work because I expressly told everyone to take the weekend off and we haven't caught a new murder case," Sharon punctuated each word, her eyes firmly on Flynn.

Flynn crossed his arms, rolling his eyes, "Relax, Sharon – it's nothing to do with a new murder case – and no, we're not mollycoddling you."

Sharon blew air out of her mouth, "So it's something to do with yesterday?"

Flynn looked sufficiently guilty, "Maybe."

Sharon sighed, then waved her hand, "Then go."

"I'm sorry – I'll give you a call when we're done."

Sharon merely hummed and gave an acknowledging nod.

Flynn said a warm 'see you kid' to Rusty, his hand briefly squeezing Rusty's shoulder as well; Rusty smiled back. The lieutenant gave Sharon a long look, eyes warm and then he leaned down and surprised Sharon, planting a brief kiss on her lips, a little whispered, 'see you' following.

Rusty watched Flynn leave, Sharon sitting still with what could only be a cross of horror and happiness upon her face.

Rusty a quirked eyebrow, "So you aren't dating."

Sharon shook her head but there were blotches of redness on her cheeks again. Rusty grinned, "C'mon, Captain – let's walk a bit more."

Sharon laughed, and stood up as well.

/


	5. Chapter 5

/5/

Rusty woke up feeling disoriented, darkness encompassing in his room; for a moment it seemed to be closing in on him, suffocating him, but then he realized he was awake. He had been dreaming again, his t-shirt clinging to his skin, perspiration still damp. He lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling, not sure what had woken him up, not sure what had been so devastating in the dream that he'd ended up in a pool of his own sweat. Then he heard it again, the sound of someone talking, the noise muffled – it came from outside his room, the kitchen he guessed. The voice sounded distressed, not its usual composed self; he knew instantly it was Sharon. He looked at the clock on his nightstand; 2 am.

This wasn't right.

Slipping out of bed, Rusty quickly strode to his door, going through into the hallway. There was a weak light from the living room and when he moved down the hall he caught the tail of a phone conversation ending, Sharon mumbling something in a tired voice. Rusty rounded the living room, coming into the kitchen. Sharon was leaning against the counter, phone in her hand, the other running through her hair as she took two quick inhalations in succession. She'd been crying, Rusty noticed, the puffiness beneath her eyes unmistakable.

Feeling suddenly wary and nervous, Rusty approached Sharon.

"I thought I heard voices," Rusty said and Sharon looked up, surprise at his presence.

There was an agonized look in the depths of her eyes and the small smile she tried to force ahead was only wan, "It's just me."

Rusty nodded, not sure what to do – Sharon was sniffling, an insecure smile as she tried to wipe away an errant tear at the corner of her eye. She was taking heavy breaths as if she was trying to control her own inhalations but weren't quite succeeding. She looked a bit small, Rusty thought; even her pajamas pants looked too big on her, the oversized t-shirt even worse. For a brief second he wondered if it was the same t-shirt lieutenant Flynn had worn to sleep in but the notion was quickly pushed aside; it was of no consequence.

"Did I wake you?" Sharon asked, her eyes on him, "I'm sorry."

"No, I was awake," Rusty lied and then he walked closer to her, a hand reaching for her shoulder, "Are you - " he stopped, cursing himself; he had been about to ask whether she was alright – of course she wasn't.

Sharon looked behind her, pointing at the water boiling in the kettle, "I was just making some tea." She put the phone down on the counter, running a hand through her hair once again, "I couldn't sleep."

Rusty nodded, "Bad dream?"

She smiled self-consciously and gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.

"You should have woken me," Rusty said to her, his voice soft, "I wouldn't have minded."

"I know, I know," she said quietly, then turning to the cabinet with mugs, "You want some tea?"

"Yeah," he watched her fiddle with the mugs, taking out the tea filters. Her hands shook and it was another little thing that was almost undetectable but Rusty noticed. Rusty came to stand beside Sharon, gently taking the filters from her hands, "Sit down, Sharon, I'll do it – you seem tired."

She nodded, no objections as she turned around and walked to the sofa.

"I'm exhausted," she said as sat on the sofa, voice nonchalant as if she was mentioning the fact that it was raining or something equally unimportant.

Rusty brought along the tea to the sofa, watching Sharon staring emptily into the air. He sat the mugs down on the table and then quickly wrapped a blanket around Sharon's shoulders.

Sharon looked up, eyes shimmery but a grateful smile. She patted the place next to her and Rusty sat down with her, the warm tea mug between his palms.

"God, I haven't had a nightmare in ages," Sharon told him, her voice shaking. Her brows knit together and Rusty thought she was upset with herself for letting it get to her even if it was quite a natural reaction.

Sharon sipped her tea once but then sat the mug down on the table again, hands in her lap.

Rusty put his tea on the table as well and scooted closer to Sharon. His eyes itched when he felt her lean against him, a sigh that sounded more like a buried half-sob leaving her lips.

"I called Andy," she sniffled, hands still in her lap as she drew in two quick breaths, "I mean, I called Lieutenant Flynn. He'll be here in a short while."

"Okay, that's good."

"Mm-hmm."

"Do you want to talk about the nightmare?"

"I can't remember it," she sounded despondent.

They sat in silence, close together and staring out into the night.

"Sharon?" Rusty asked her.

She hummed, the sound half raspy.

"I love you," he told her, the words warm on his lips.

She turned around and her arms went around him. Rusty brought his own arms around her and he could feel the reverberation of her choking back a sob, his arms tightening the embrace. It was not the first time he had told her but he needed her to know; needed her to understand that it physically hurt him to see her like this. Rusty traced his hand up and down Sharon's back, feeling the way she settled into an easier rhythm of breathing.

"I love you too," she whispered, the words clear even if they were uttered in a low voice. Rusty briefly smiled; it was always a novel, wonderful thing to hear even if she had said it a number of times before and he had no doubts in this area when it came to her. It was however a sentence that was serene no matter how many times he heard it.

He felt her breathing slowing down, evening out, her head resting on his shoulder. "Just close your eyes, Sharon," he softly patted her back, "and go to sleep – Lieutenant Flynn will be here soon, and I'm here," he paused, feeling how she settled down, "Just go to sleep."

She fell asleep with a frightening alacrity, heavy against Rusty. He felt how her breathing slowly changed, her breath hot against his neck. He eased her down so she lay on the sofa, a pillow under her head and he was able to sit beside her, watching her.

The skin under her eyes was puffy and red, tear tracks still visible. Rusty gently let his thumb trace her temple, tucking away a strand of hair. She was beyond exhausted; otherwise she wouldn't have fallen asleep that swiftly and on the sofa in the middle of an embrace nonetheless.

Rusty wasn't sure how long he sat watching her sleep but suddenly there was a small knock on the front door. He quickly got to his feet without disturbing Sharon and then with light feet he hurried to the door, seeing Flynn through the peephole. He opened the door, a finger in front of his lips indicating the lieutenant be silent.

"She's asleep?" Flynn asked hesitantly in a whisper.

Rusty nodded, turning his head and looking back at the sofa and Sharon.

"Yeah, she fell asleep right in my arms."

Flynn nodded, closing and locking the door behind him. He had an overnight bag with him which he placed next to his shoes. When Rusty looked up he found Flynn with a soft look in his eyes, looking at Sharon.

"That's good," Flynn whispered, "She needs to sleep – I'm not sure she slept a wink yesterday."

"You want some tea?" Rusty asked and the lieutenant nodded. They moved to the kitchen, Rusty taking his own tea mug with him, quickly tugging in the blanket around Sharon. She didn't stir; she seemed to be far gone in sleep.

Rusty joined the lieutenant in the kitchen, noiselessly making a mug of tea for the older man.

"You alright kid?" Flynn gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder, sipping his tea, eyes inquisitive.

"I'm just worried about her," Rusty answered truthfully, "I mean, it's just – well," Rusty stopped, briefly angry with himself for rambling. Flynn gave him another pat on the shoulder, gentle.

"She's shaken right now – it was a traumatic assault, bound to cause some residual effects. Nightmares are part of trying to comprehend and understand a situation like this. But she'll be alright eventually, okay. You're doing great, kid – I worry too but you're there for her and she appreciates it – I appreciate it."

Rusty nodded, "I just feel a bit lost."

"Me too, kid, me too," Flynn agreed, sipping his own tea, "As long as we're there for her, and tell her, it'll work out."

Rusty nodded.

"Are you staying?"

Flynn looked out into the den, eyes on the sofa, "Yeah. I'll carry her into her own bed in a while – I think she'll sleep better in her own bed now that she's calmed down," the lieutenant put his mug down and ran a hand through his hair. Then with eyes on Rusty he said, "Don't worry, she'll sleep soundly now; she just needed to get some things off her chest."

"What things?"

The lieutenant sighed, "A good cry, maybe – someone to talk to. I'm not sure; Sharon's hard to read at times. It's always different when it comes to a situation like this. There's never any precise formula on how you react. Being assaulted like she was, it's painful even if you think it shouldn't be. There's a lot of stuff going through your head. Sometimes you even blame yourself, think if only I'd done something else. Heck, I wish I'd seen it coming – I would have planted my fist in the creeps face before he could take a step in her direction then."

"It's no one's fault but the guy who did it," Rusty said. Flynn smiled at him briefly, "Yeah, logic is another thing that's hard to come by in a situation like this."

Rusty nodded, he knew the feeling.

"She seemed fine last night – she said the walk on the beach calmed her down," Rusty said out aloud, eyes briefly on the sofa. Sharon had been herself last night, sharing laughter and soft looks – they had made dinner together and it had almost been like nothing had happened.

Flynn nodded, "I'm sure she was – she just had a nightmare and it connected a little harder than she'd thought possible. I don't think she was prepared for it to hurt like this – took her by surprise."

"Have you ever been assaulted?" he asked the lieutenant; it sounded like Flynn was familiar with the aspects of being attacked.

"Yeah, an inordinate number of times now - I've lost count," Flynn answered, a half-smile on his lips that looked wry, "people love to hate me."

Rusty sipped his tea, weighing the lieutenant's answer. His tone sounded offhand but his eyes were dark and seemed to be taking on a distant look.

"Have Sharon being assaulted before?"

"Not to my knowledge," Flynn furrowed his brows, eyes on Sharon again, "She dealt with a lot of bullshit and harassment when she worked in internal affairs I'd imagine but I don't think she's ever been this close to it before. She's hasn't said a word of it to me, anyway."

"Okay."

They sipped their tea for a bit, each lost in their own contemplations.

"I'm glad you're here," Rusty said and he meant it.

Flynn looked at him, a soft look in his eyes, "Thank you."

They were silent for another little moment.

Then Rusty whispered, "I'm not unaccustomed to nightmares, I know how it goes," Flynn gave a nod, eyes on Rusty, "But yeah, I haven't had any in a while. I think I had one yesterday."

Flynn looked at him, eyes intense, "You wanna talk about it?"

Rusty shook his head, "No, not really," he paused, "I mean, I know why I had it. There's really nothing to discuss about it."

Flynn hummed and they watched Sharon again, both silent.

"Did you fix everything with Lieutenant Provenza? He's not upset with you anymore?"

Flynn looked at him silently for a while before he answered, "Yeah," he paused and took a sip of his tea, "Everything's taken care of." It was a cryptic answer and Rusty didn't really know what to make of it.

"Don't worry; Sharon will be back to herself in no time."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, definitely. It's never easy, our job, and every once in a while something happens that push you off course."

Rusty nodded; it was painful to be assaulted and he knew it was hard to explain how it affected you and he knew that it was natural to react like Sharon did; he just wanted her to be happy, that was all. Sharon wanted Rusty safe and sound and it was a sentiment that Rusty shared with her; he just wanted her to be happy and safe.

"You alright?" Flynn asked him again, putting his mug into the sink, "I think I'll put her to bed now – let her have a good rest." Rusty copied Flynn and gave a nod, "Yeah – I'll go right back to sleep."

Rusty watched Flynn walking to the sofa, sitting back on his haunches, a small caress down the side of Sharon's face, his thumb lingering.

"Hey," Flynn whispered in the softest voice Rusty had ever heard the lieutenant use. Sharon's breathing changed a bit and Flynn continued, "What do you say, we get you into bed, huh."

"C'mon, sweetheart," Flynn whispered, sweeping an arm around her back, under her arms and one under her knees, standing up with Sharon in his arms. Rusty wasn't sure Sharon was completely awake but he still whispered a soft, "Night Sharon," and he watched Flynn carrying her into her bedroom before he went to his own bed again.

Sleep, however, was hard to regain.

/


	6. Chapter 6

/6/

Sunday morning dawned bright and warm; Rusty ventured into the living room and kitchen yawning an unmentionable number of times, a hand in front of his eyes warding off the bright light. He was tired but sleep had been elusive, he saw no point in trying to force it anymore.

Rusty found Flynn lounging in the kitchen, a newspaper in one hand and a coffee mug in the other. The older man looked up when he heard Rusty, "Morning, kid."

"Morning," Rusty mumbled back, "Sharon asleep?"

"Nope," Flynn answered, "she's out running."

Rusty yawned again, confusion knitting his eyebrows together, "Running – it's what, 8 am?"

"Yeah – she felt restless."

"Hmm."

Rusty leaned on the kitchen counter, head in his hands; he felt more tired than yesterday but then again he had slept badly, tossing and turning, wondering if Sharon was able to sleep or not, wondering if he was going to dream again.

Flynn gave him a wry smile, putting the newspaper down. The lieutenant turned, found a mug and poured coffee into it and gave it to Rusty.

"Thanks," Rusty said, hastily sipping the coffee – it was deliciously hot and bitter. He sighed.

Flynn hummed in return.

"Did you sleep alright?" Flynn asked him, taking the newspaper in hand again, scanning a page before he turned.

Rusty shrugged.

"Hmm – you ready for school tomorrow?"

"I guess."

Flynn gave Rusty a long look and then with an open expression he asked, "Is there anything particular you would like to do today?"

"Whatever Sharon's doing is fine."

Flynn quirked a smile, "Yeah, I don't think we'll be able to keep up today. She's in hurricane mode - kind of impatient – I have no clue what she's gonna end up doing."

"Impatient?"

"Restless and a bit agitated, I think," Flynn smiled to himself, "She's already scolded me twice – apparently I have an annoying way of breathing when I sleep."

Rusty gave a nervous laugh, not sure what to make of it. He knew that Flynn had slept with Sharon in her bedroom but he was not sure what that entailed; above the covers or next to her under the covers. He quickly pushed that thought away; it was one thing to know they were in a relationship of sort and an entirely different thing to wonder about the bedroom arrangements.

Flynn grinned, "You just wait kid – when they start criticizing the way you breathe it's usually better to lay low."

Rusty shook his head in amusement, "or maybe you snore really loud."

Flynn shrugged with another grin, Rusty smiled back. The lieutenant was rather amusing, Rusty thought, just the right amount of humor to lighten up Sharon.

Rusty sipped his coffee and watched as Flynn turned around, sitting on his haunches and looking in the oven, the timer set – Rusty noticed the rolls in the oven then, not yet ready. Rusty had a hard time imagining Flynn baking.

Flynn looked up, catching his questioning look, "Oh yeah – and she got up at the crack of dawn and started baking. Hurricane-mode, I tell ya."

At that moment the front door opened.

"We are in here," Rusty half-yelled, able to tell it was Sharon by the way the door closed almost silently; she always did things with precision. He heard her shuffling and then she came into the kitchen, still panting and a healthy red glow on her cheeks. She smiled warmly, "Good morning you two."

"Morning," Rusty replied, arching an eyebrow at her questioningly.

Sharon came further into the kitchen, her arms laden with a brown bag and a nearly empty water bottle. She placed both on the kitchen counter, opened the brown bag and took out an apple; "I ran into Mrs. Gordon and she gave me all these apples – homegrown."

Rusty looked closer at the bag, the many apples a variety of sizes and colors.

Sharon took a bite of the apple and gave Rusty and Flynn another warm smile. "How did you sleep?" She looked at Rusty, enquiring and her usual self, warm eyes on him.

Rusty shrugged, "A bit – and you?"

Her smile transformed, turning pensive, "I'm sorry – you should have just slept in," she ignored Rusty's question but Rusty knew the way around that, "Yeah, but I thought I might as well get up and do something. Don't worry about it; I'll be able to sleep even more profoundly tonight. You slept without any more nightmares?"

Her smile turned a bit wan, Rusty knew she hated it when he put her on the spot like that – she gave a small nod, "Yes, I slept alright."

Flynn nodded in agreement and Rusty heaved a little sigh of relief.

Rusty sipped his coffee, giving Sharon an encouraging smile. She pointed her apple at the brown bag, "You should try one – they're delicious."

Rusty lifted his coffee mug, "I'm not awake yet."

Sharon shook her head, and then turned to Flynn, "How are my cinnamon rolls doing?"

"Great," he paused, face nonchalant, "they're meant to be black on top right?"

Sharon huffed, a little look of panic in her eyes as she hurried to the oven and then when she noticed her rolls were not burned, she turned around, hands on her hips, "Ha ha, very funny Mister."

Flynn grinned in an insolent fashion, eyes full of amusement, "Gotcha."

"I'm going to take a shower," Rusty said, thinking a shower would wake him up, "unless you wanna go first, Sharon?"

"No, you go ahead," Sharon smiled, taking another bite from the apple; she resolutely avoided looking at Flynn who was staring intensely at her. Rusty wondered if this was the way it was going to be everytime the lieutenant slept over; a mesh of lightheartedness, tension and awkwardness.

Rusty smiled to himself and went back to the hallway. He stopped midstride however, turning around – he had forgotten his coffee and he definitely needed more caffeine. He stopped just short of rounding the kitchen, curious when he heard a conversation start in the kitchen. He'd already eavesdropped once he might as well do it again – it was apparently the only way to get anything concrete out of the two adults.

"What have you told the kid?" Flynn asked, a little strain in his voice that could either be laughter or impatience, "He seems completely unbothered by everything."

"Nothing," Sharon sounded nonchalant.

"Nothing – what do you mean nothing?" now Flynn sounded slightly exasperated, "Don't you think he deserves to know why you're suddenly having sleepovers with one of your lieutenants. Hell, just so he doesn't start blabbering about it all over central."

"What do you want me to tell him, Andy?" Sharon's voice was muffled and Rusty realized she was talking with a piece of apple in her mouth – a sure sign she was exasperated when she did not even give herself time to chew her food properly before speaking, "I don't even know what to tell myself, Andy, let alone Rusty."

There was a short moment of silence, and Rusty was sure it involved them staring angrily at each other. He grinned to himself – they were kind of adorable when they bickered.

"And, just so you know, he's not going to _blabber_ about anything to anyone. There's nothing to _blabber_ about."

"You're kidding me, right? There's everything to blabber about!"

"I didn't mean it like that," she sighed loudly, "Stop huffing and puffing, you – you - "

"You – you what?"

"Oh, you're on my nerves today. Can't you just have a little patience?"

"Sharon – it's not that difficult, it's not rocket science, hon."

Rusty imagined Sharon would give Flynn a scathing look at the little sarcastic endearment.

The lieutenant continued, "You like me; I like you – no big deal. Just tell it like it is."

Sharon sighed, "That sounds absolutely horrible, no finesse to it at all. There's a reason you're not the runner up for public appearances – you're lacking in diplomacy."

"The kid's not gonna care – he just want you to be happy, you know that."

"I know that Andy."

"Good."

Another short moment where neither of them spoke, the sound of Sharon chewing on her apple clear and Flynn rustling with the paper.

"Are you staying?" Sharon asked, her voice soft.

"Do you want me to stay?"

A second of silence, then "Yes."

"Then I'll stay."

"Okay."

"Okay."

There was a long period of silence and Rusty figured he could venture into the kitchen now. He coughed to announce his presence and then snuck into the kitchen. Both adults looked at him suspiciously; Sharon with an almost embarrassed look while Flynn crossed his arms.

"Just forgot my coffee," Rusty told them with a smile. He took the mug and then, "You know, you don't have to tell me a thing. I already know everything there's to know."

"Everything?" Sharon had a hand on her hip now, a flicker of amusement in her eyes – Rusty was glad she was able to understand the situation was sort of amusing.

"That you love each other – and hey," they both looked baffled now, "I'm just happy for you Sharon – just like lieutenant Flynn said I would be."

"You've been doing an awful lot of snooping lately," Sharon said to him with a dangerous smile, completely ignoring his comment. Rusty smiled; of course she would know he had been listening Friday night.

Rusty rolled his eyes, "Apparently it's the only way for me to know what's going on," he gave Sharon a cheeky smile, "You've neglected to inform me that you're involved with him," he pointed at Flynn and Sharon blushed, "and you lied when you said you weren't dating."

Flynn laughed, "He's right, Sharon."

Sharon fixed Flynn with a glare but he continued to chuckle and eventually Sharon smiled wide, "Yes, we're together, sort of – though don't call it dating. That's too – well, just - " she was rambling now, the red tint on her cheeks deepening.

"Cool," Rusty declared and then with a mock-disgusted look, "Just don't go around snogging in front of me, okay! No big displays of touchy-touchy, okay."

"You better run along then," Flynn warned him with a glint in his eyes, approaching Sharon who continued to look overwhelmed. Rusty shook his head but quickly strode out of the kitchen, aware of why Flynn was approaching Sharon with a cheeky smile.

He heard the sound of a kiss out in the hall and Rusty smiled into his coffee mug.

Sharon giggled, "You're impossible."

Flynn grumbled something back.

Rusty quickly went to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He tried to wipe the big smile off his face but it stayed and he did not really mind; he was happy for Sharon – whatever made her smile was a good thing in his world.

/


	7. Chapter 7

/7/

Rusty headed through the LAPD building Monday afternoon feeling a curious mix of anxious and restless. There was really no reason for him to be anxious – a fact he had tried to persuade himself to countless times now. Sunday had been an otherwise peaceful day, lounging around. Sharon had been her usual self this morning, breakfast once again with lieutenant Flynn at the table.

Rusty had just finished school and in eagerness he had rushed to the police building well aware of speed limits and Sharon's wrath if he got a ticket, yet he might have driven slightly above the limit. He arrived slightly out of breath on the floor major crimes resided on, having hurried through the underground garage at a run.

Rusty just wanted to see how Sharon had fared. Not that he thought she would be a mess or frazzled – he just wanted to see for himself that she was doing fine and that being back at work was no problem. There was only so much you could derive from a text – a smiley face was a smiley face whereas Sharon's smiles had a thousand different meanings. That and he wondered how everything had turned out – had the suspect filed charges against Flynn?

The murder room was empty and Rusty opened the door into electronics finding only half the team there, standing around watching the computer screens, Chief Taylor even present along with two people Rusty had never seen before.

The group acknowledged Rusty but then their eyes were glued on the screens again. Rusty glided into the room, standing next to Sanchez. He looked around, wondering where Sharon was – even Flynn and Provenza were missing.

Before he could ask though he heard the voices from the computer, finding Sharon in the interview room along with Flynn on the computer screens. It was from Friday he guessed, Sharon in the suit she'd been wearing that Friday. Rusty stepped closer to the screens, eyes on the man who sat across from Sharon – a well-dressed tall man, short-cropped hair and an impassive expression.

That was the suspect, Rusty thought, the asshole who had attacked Sharon.

Rusty forgot all about finding Sharon then, rooted to the spot, watching – no one told him he couldn't be here so he remained in electronics, watching as everything unfolded on the screens.

Sharon lay out the facts, a hand around a pen, her eyes on the suspect; they sat across from each other and the tall man's eyes were trained on her. It was only because he knew what was going to happen, Rusty thought, otherwise he wouldn't find the man to be so callous looking, wouldn't find that neutral face suspicious.

The suspect nodded.

Lieutenant Flynn stood up against the wall, arms crossed, watching the suspect with narrowed eyes.

The suspect started protesting when Sharon explained the DA deal.

Lieutenant Flynn interrupted, "Shut up – you listen to the Captain first, you creep, and then you can file your complaints with the Mayor's office."

The suspect closed his mouth, dark eyes turning to Flynn instead – there was something sinister about that look as well. Rusty held his breath; this was both dreadful and yet captivating in an odd way – Rusty both wanted to see it and he didn't, caught in this ambiguous feeling.

There was a knock on the interview room door and Rusty watched Flynn stalk to the door, a narrowed look over his back at the suspect. Sharon ignored them both, continuing to talk to the suspect. The guy's eyes landed on her again, a small tightening of his mouth.

Flynn answered the door – a uniform; they went outside, leaving Sharon alone. Rusty shook his head, feeling an irrational need to run out of electronics and go warn Sharon in the interview room – despite the fact that what he was watching had already happened.

In happened in a flash then, Sharon calmly pushing the notepad towards the suspect, her hand holding out the pen; they needed him to write his deposition down. The guy calmly stood up, towering – Sharon arched an eyebrow at him, continuing to sit in her chair.

Then the asshole jumped at her, both of them falling to the ground in a heap, the guy's big hands clamped around her throat, blocking her air supply; Rusty watched feeling immense anger, Sharon struggling, her hands going to the creeps face, trying to claw at it – he countered with two knees on her arms, holding her down, sitting on top of her, his fingers now white around her throat – Rusty watched her knees bump hard into the guy's back but he didn't move an inch; there was an almost manic precision to him.

Sharon was choking, her knees hitting the suspect harder now – it seemed futile, Rusty thought, the guy was big and in good shape.

At that moment the door opened again and Flynn came back; he was in a sprint towards the guy the moment he realized what was happening, tackling the asshole – they spiraled away from Sharon and bumped into a wall.

Flynn's fist landed in the guy's face twice, a knee in his stomach and the guy doubled over; Flynn followed him to the floor, pummeling his fists into the guy, hands coming away bloody Rusty noticed – meanwhile Sharon had collapsed completely to the floor. Was she even breathing? A second or two went by, then the door flew open again and in came Sanchez and Sykes, out of breath, they immediately went for Flynn, trying to drag him away from the suspect.

Provenza came into the room then, going straight for Sharon; the lieutenant kneeled beside her, a pained expression on his face; he helped her sit up. She looked so pale, Rusty reflected, taking irregular breaths, just coming to consciousness again; Provenza had a comforting arm around her upper arm – she was swaying, looking ready to faint again.

Tao came bolting into the room as well now, two uniforms behind him; they quickly leapt past Provenza and Sharon, helping Sanchez heave Flynn away from the suspect; Sykes kneeled by the suspect, her hand on the gun at her hip – but the guy didn't move much but for a moan of pain.

Flynn looked livid, still trying to get past Sanchez who had him by the labels of his suit, Tao standing in front of them baring access with his body and trying, as far as Rusty could tell, to get eye contact with Flynn, telling him to calm down with a soft voice.

Life slowly seemed to go out of Flynn and he sagged a bit, arms falling down limply at his sides.

"We've called for a medic," one of the uniforms said, kneeling besides Sykes and the suspect.

Flynn turned around, eyes on Sharon, kneeling in front of her along with Provenza. Sanchez eyed Flynn, standing ready behind him – Rusty thought the detective was afraid Flynn would lunge for the suspect again. But Flynn was otherwise occupied now, his face crumbling at the sight of Sharon, softening.

"Hey," Flynn said, a gentle low tone and a hand on her cheek in a small caress. Provenza narrowed his eyes, watching Flynn. Sharon looked up and caught Flynn's eyes, a vulnerable look. She didn't even seem to notice Flynn's bloodied knuckles, the hand on her cheek seeming not to bother her. Provenza saw the blood, however, "Flynn, you've got the creep's blood on you. Go wash it off."

Flynn quickly retracted his hand from Sharon's cheek, eyes angrily on Provenza who returned the same look.

Flynn shook his head, "I'm going with her in the ambulance."

"I'm not going anywhere," Sharon said, her voice sounding hoarse.

"Oh yes you are, Captain," Provenza turned to her and despite the words his voice was gentle, "You passed out and can barely sit upright by yourself – you're going to get checked out."

She didn't protest but merely closed her eyes.

"Now you, go wash off the blood and cool down," Provenza said to Flynn again, "c'mon, go on – before FID comes down here and you go mental on them as well."

Flynn shook his head, a hand on Sharon's knee – Rusty thought the gesture was unbeknownst to both Flynn and Sharon though it caught Provenza's attention, "I'm not going anywhere."

"I'll look after her," Provenza hissed under his breath, the words barely making their way over the speaker.

Flynn ignored Provenza for the moment, "I'm so sorry, Sharon."

"I feel a little dizzy," Sharon replied.

Before either men could answer, Tao knelt by the little group as well, "You lost consciousness, Captain?"

She nodded.

Tao took her hand in his, two fingers on the inside of her wrist, "Can you breathe alright?"

Sharon shook her head a little, grimacing, "It feels a little strange," she rasped out.

"C'mon," Provenza stood up, a hand around Flynn's upper arm. Flynn followed Provenza up – they went to the door, speaking in low voices that did not translate over the speaker, both looking angry, words heated and gestures livid.

Rusty thought it was the adrenaline kicking in and the fear of seeing Sharon being strangled that made the two men hiss at each other, eyes narrowed and voices rising in volume; it was always easy to lash out at the people close to you when a situation was outside your control – Rusty only knew too well how that felt.

The door into electronics opened and Provenza came in, stopped up short when he noticed Rusty.

"Kid, you are not supposed to be in here," it was said with a glare at Taylor who merely raised an eyebrow and gave a nonchalant shrug.

"I don't think your foster mom," Provenza said, extra stress on mom, "wants you to see this."

Rusty tried to glare at the old man but he did not budge. "But," Rusty protested. Provenza gently but firmly guided Rusty outside electronics, closing the door behind them both. Rusty knew the lieutenant was right but even if he felt sick watching what had happened he also felt relieved to know what had actually happened.

"Who were those two suits in the room?" Rusty asked.

Provenza patted his shoulder, then "DDA Michaels and Lieutenant Elliot from FID."

"Listen, let's go find the Captain, okay."

Rusty nodded and followed the lieutenant.

"How was school?" the lieutenant asked, a soft hand on Rusty's shoulder as they walked away from electronics, "I thought the two of us could go out and get everyone some take-out – eat a bit of dinner together the whole group, huh, how does that sound?

"School was school," Rusty said and received a smile from the older man, "We have to get Sharon something that's not greasy – just as a little show of appreciation, you know – we get her something green and pizza for the rest."

The lieutenant nodded with another smile, "Yeah, she's not the pizza type, is she."

The question was rhetorical; they both knew Sharon was rather devoted to green things.

"Is there anything you want to know?" Provenza asked, almost hesitantly, "About what you just watched? You alright?"

Rusty sighed, "I'm not glad I watched it but it's just kind of a relief to know what happened."

"I understand kid, I really do. But I think the Captain would've preferred you didn't see it and frankly I'm not ready for the admonition when she finds out I let you get away with it."

Rusty smiled, "It's not your fault, "then sobered, "Why's the DDA there?"

"We want our bases covered, just in case."

"Just in case?"

"Just in case the suspect and his lawyers decides to make trouble for us. Lieutenant Elliot is positive that the case will be closed with no repercussions."

Rusty nodded, they both moved along to the little place where Rusty usually did his homework. They were just about to round the corner into the den when Provenza shot an arm out and prevented Rusty from going into the half-open space; it was occupied.

Sharon was sitting perfectly still on a table, one leg over the other, watching Flynn striding around in angry circles. Rusty was about to announce himself but Provenza shook his head in the negative; they both watched as Flynn stopped short and then approached Sharon, hands around the back of her head and before Rusty could avert his eyes, they were kissing. Not a long kiss or a messy one – just a little short one that made Sharon go wide-eyed and made Provenza groan next to Rusty.

"I'm sure that's not what it looks like," Rusty whispered to the lieutenant – trying to come up with an explanation that would explain away the fact that Flynn had kissed Sharon – their relationship was a precarious one, Rusty understood that and he guessed it would not be a good thing for it to be too public.

Provenza arched an eyebrow, "Rusty, that's exactly what it looks like – one idiot kissing another."

Rusty looked dumbfounded and then watched as Provenza snuck his head around the corner again, a goofy smile on his face.

"You know about them?" Rusty asked.

"They kind of let the cat out of the bag, Friday," the older man answered.

Rusty grinned, "How?"

Provenza shook his head, "The idiot," he pointed in the direction of Flynn, "went berserk on the suspect like I've never seen him go berserk before, then proceeded to cradle the Captain's hand and utter absolute nonsense waiting for the ambulance. Nearly blew a coronary when I tried to get him to stay behind for when FID came down to inspect the scene – proceeded to manhandle his way to the ambulance and followed her; he held her hand through the whole ride."

Rusty shook his head – Flynn and Sharon were apparently rubbish at doing things without being obvious; the thought was rather amusing. "Okay – is that why you were mad at Lieutenant Flynn?"

Provenza shook his head at himself, "Partially. We were all riding a lot of adrenaline and anger; it's easy to lash out in a situation then. I was just worried about the Captain – and Flynn. I was didn't want him to be in trouble – and certainly not further trouble because he couldn't hide his emotions."

"I understand," Rusty said and he did.

Provenza nodded and then raising his voice he said out aloud, "If there's something Rusty and I shouldn't see it better stop now – because we're making our entrance."

Rusty grinned and followed the lieutenant into the room, watching as Sharon was once again seated on the table looking like nothing had happened, Flynn standing a good five meters from her, arms crossed.

"Yes, lieutenant," Sharon enquired, crossing her arms as well, she smiled, "Hi Rusty."

"They're done watching the tape."

Sharon nodded.

"DDA Michaels is going to talk with the Mr. James's lawyer and that'll be it."

"So it's done?" Flynn asked.

Provenza nodded, "That remains to be seen. The bastard's on his way to county – got checked out of the hospital this morning. You might get a spot on you record though, Flynn – it'll fit nicely with the rest of your colorful spots."

Flynn breathed a sigh, smiling briefly, "I can live with that," he paused, "It's not as if I'm anxiously waiting to be promoted."

Sharon still looked impassive, "Nothing in the media? What about internal affairs?" she turned her head and regarded Flynn with a lifted eyebrow, "Stop being so blasé."

Flynn shrugged, a lazy smile directed back at Sharon.

"That Elliot kid thinks you're the creator himself; he's practically ready to beat Mr James himself," Provenza intervened before they could begin to bicker.

Sharon narrowed her eyes, "So there's no ramifications?"

"Most likely not – at least not for us. The creep will get an aggravated assault charge on his rap sheet as well – it goes rather well with murder in the first degree." Provenza smiled briefly, then with a grave look at Sharon and Flynn, "However, if you two idiots continue to sneak around with your faces attached to each other then someone might just file a report. Subtlety, that's the deal, my friends – it's not that hard."

Sharon looked nonplussed, "I have no clue what you're referring to, lieutenant."

Provenza suddenly looked uncomfortable, "Just keep it out of my sight, huh."

Flynn chuckled, "Sure thing, old man."

Sharon gave Flynn a glare, crossing her arms. She was about to open her mouth when Rusty intervened, "How about dinner?"

All three adults smiled at him.

Things might just go back to normal, Rusty thought – well as normal as it could be living with his own personal police Captain who was going to be bringing home her own personal police Lieutenant. He grinned to himself – glad when Sharon came over and gave him a hug, her smile genuine and her eyes crinkled.

/

The end. =) Hope you all enjoyed it. I'm just thankful you're such wonderful readers =)


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